Will You Be My Wonderwall?
by ambr0isie
Summary: It was supposed to be a great senior for them but when something unexpected happens to Brittany, they realize that things are going to change dramatically. All Brittany wants is for Santana to be there for her but what happens when Santana can't?
1. Prologue

**This is the beginning to another story I've been working on. I'm not sure if I want to continue with it or not. If it interests you, review or message me. Bye, x. **

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><p>There comes a time in your life when you're faced with an experience that rewires your brain. You start to think differently, act differently. You realize how precious life is and also how fleeting. You look back on your previous endeavors prior to this experience and wonder how you could ever act the way you have acted because now, you've matured. This type of experience is usually subsequent to another: loss. There comes a time in your life when you experience a loss, whether you're prepared or not. The cold, dark hands of death give you no warning. A man that you worked with at your first real job passing away is sad and you pay your respects to his family but your life moves on from it because you weren't greatly affected. But what happens when you lose a significant other or a best friend or all that wrapped in one? The one you've known since you were facing the harsh in-between called adolescence. The one you've shared secrets with under the weeping willow tree, eating Drumsticks ice creams. The same person you entered that first year of high school with when you were so scared that you wouldn't make any friends or that you would be deemed unpopular because you didn't have the right shoes or hair. The one you experienced your first real kiss with under the shade of the bleachers one day after your high school football team won their first victory. The one you gave yourself to emotionally and physically when you felt the time was right. The one you consoled when her parents were fighting about matters you were too young to fully understand. The same person you'll love unconditionally.<p>

How do you cope with the loss of someone who knew so much about you? The memories you shared with them won't decay like their breathless body but still remain, inside of you, tugging at your heart and pounding in your brain. For some people, it's best to accept the loss and move on with their life because they know that the person they lost would hate to see them moping around. But for me, I wouldn't know how to move on. When you let so much of yourself be vulnerable to someone other than your well protected diary that you've had since you were eight, letting go of someone you love and cherish is hard. Not only will their body not be with you anymore, but the better half of yourself as well.

I lost my grandfather when I was ten. My fondest memory of him was when I was six, sitting on this itchy, red carpet he had in his den. He was smoking one of those Cuban cigars my mother got him for Father's Day. The smell wafted through the room and clung to any surface that would absorb it. He looked down at me and said, "Mija, you are a disappointment and you will always be a disappointment." I wasn't quite sure what I did to make him say that but he kissed me on the forehead, his scruffy mustache grazing along my skin and the smell of liquor and smoke greeted my nose.

When he died four years later, I felt no remorse because the only memory I had of him was him telling me I was a disappointment. At the funeral, I was sandwiched between my mother and my Abuela, crying from the loss of her husband. I, however, didn't shed one tear. My family members looked at me in disgust and I was deemed "heartless" at the age of ten. The name held true with everyone I encountered except for one, my best friend, my counterpart, my girlfriend, Brittany S. Pierce. I suffered a loss once and I pray that I don't have another one.


	2. The First Encounter

**Santana's POV. Tell me what you think guys, x. **

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><p>I met Brittany when I was thirteen years old at the park by the only high school in Lima. I was sitting by the swings awaiting Quinn's arrival. She texted me thirty minutes prior telling me to meet her after Church. Anyway, I sat there by myself, eyeing a small girl with an ice cream sandwich, envying her because I wanted one so bad but I knew I couldn't have it because I had to be in perfect shape for high school.<p>

The little girl sat down in the sandbox parallel to the swings, letting the ice cream sandwich melt in her dirty hand, as she used her free one to make a sand castle for her battered up Barbie. Her fingers, not long enough and not fast enough, couldn't catch the frozen treat when it fell into the sand. Her small bottom lip jutted out and she wiped a piece of sand off her face. Her innocent face with big doe eyes started to contort as the sudden realization hit. It was a delayed reaction but the effect came. Her cries, not audible but visual, pained me.

So, I got up and walked over to her. She looked up at me with tears still welling in her ducts. I tried my best to feign a smile because smiling was foreign to the "heartless" girl. "Hi," I said hesitantly, crouching down next to her and handing her the Barbie doll that managed to slip out of the girl's reach.

The girl furrowed her brow at me and scrunched up her face in confusion. She looked over her shoulder for an adult, I presumed. She didn't know what to do in this situation. She looked like she was four years old. Was that old enough for the no-talking-strangers talk? By the way she glared at me, I guess it was. "I saw you dropped your ice cream." I noted sweetly, pointing to the half eaten chocolate chip cookie being devoured by the beige sand. I reached into my pocket and produced a crumpled up five dollar bill. "I can buy you another one…if you want?"

I never knew how kids were able to do this but as if on cue, her tears dried and her face light up. She nodded enthusiastically, getting up and out of the sand. She brushed her dress off and reached her small hand outward. I didn't know what to do with it at first but I realized she wanted me to grab it. The small encounter meant a lot to me at the time. In my life, "heartless" was also associated with "untouchable".

There was something about this little girl that lifted my spirits. She didn't know me but she was so willing to know me. People underestimate the power of touch. Everything starts with a touch. A touch symbolizes acceptance and comfortability. All great things started with a touch I would soon realize.

We approached the ice cream truck and she picked out a rainbow colored ice pop instead. I handed my wrinkly bill to the young teenage boy inside and waited as he made change. His eyes, a stunning green I'd never seen before, glistened off the shine emitting from the soft serve machine. His soft brown curls fell messily in front of his face as he counted out seventy five cents in nickels.

"Keep it," I said, noticing it was too much of a hassle. He looked up from his work station and smiled.

He licked his lips as he raised his chin, sizing me up. "I know you from somewhere." He noted, leaning over the side of the truck. His eyes met mine and he searched in them for a reminder of who I could have been. "Did you go to the middle school right over there?" He asked, pointing past the trees of the park to William Taft Middle School.

I laughed because it, just like McKinley, was the only middle school in Lima. He took my laugh as an affirmative and I smiled at how he attempted to make a suave joke. The little girl tugged on the hem of my shorts and pointed back to the sandbox. I, however, didn't pay much attention because I was still overwhelmed with the idea that this boy could be interested in me. I wasn't anything special, especially compared to Quinn, with her flaxen golden hair, her emerald eyes and her petite frame. She was the dream to many boys and the envy to many girls. I assumed at the time that because this boy was giving me the time of day, he hadn't met Quinn.

"I'm Noah Puckerman," He introduced himself, sticking out his hand for me and I took it gratefully as he offered me a nice squeeze.

"I'm Santana," I replied back bashfully, looking down, hoping he wouldn't see me blush. Over my shoulder, I heard a girl yelling towards the direction of the ice cream truck.

"Lizzie," The girl screamed, coming to a halt next to the small blonde girl by me. I looked over my shoulder at the lanky, blonde with striking blue cat eyes that danced under the bright rays of the sun. She clenched at her chest as she panted. She looked down at the girl by my side and scrunched up her face in anger. "Lizzie, you were just by the sandbox! I look away for just one second and you-"

The girl looked up from her sister and lost her train of thought as she glanced at me. Her mouth opened slightly and she closed it quickly when she realized that I had noticed. "Hi, I'm sorry. Lizzie runs off sometimes." She rambled on. She noticed the icicle in Lizzie's hand and sighed. "Did you buy this for her? You didn't have to do that." She exclaimed breathlessly, fishing for money in her pockets.

"Britt, she bought me this." Lizzie said exuding accomplishment as she waved the icicle in front of the girl. Her older sister sighed as she checked her back pockets for any money but found nothing.

"Hey, I'm sorry. I don't have any money to pay you back." She apologized.

I shook my head, objecting. "It's okay, what's a dollar and twenty five cents anyway?" I looked over my shoulder at Noah, who was still staring at me intently. Not in mean way but in a loving way, I didn't know that when I was thirteen though.

"I'll see you in September, Santana?" He asked, handing me three dollars. I nodded bashfully and waved at him as I walked back over to the swings. The blonde girl and Lizzie followed me however.

"I really do need to pay you back." The girl said again, taking a seat next to me on the swings. I shook my head to object but she lifted her hands to stop me. She pulled her small, bow shaped lips to the side and thought. Her fingers grazed along one of the two matching silver charm bracelets on her wrist when her face illuminated to life. She undid the clasp on one of the bracelets.

Her long, nimble fingers took the 'S' charm off of the other bracelet, leaving only the letters "B" and "P". She put the "S" charm on the other bracelet and handed it to me. "Here," She said. "Your name is Santana, right?" She asked for further clarification. I nodded weakly and eyed the charm bracelet in her outstretched hand.

She reached for my right wrist and put it on. The tips of her fingers grazed along the tender underside of my wrist as she clasped the bracelet into place. "My name is Brittany S. Pierce." She said confidently, showing off her braces.

"Hi," I said, waving at her with one hand and shielding my eyes from the sun with the other. "Thanks for the bracelet." I said, looking down at the silver shining brilliantly in the hot August sun.

Brittany smiled again, looking over at her little sister back in the sandbox. She looked back over at me and studied my face. "I wish I could get as tan as you." Brittany blurted out, eyeing my bare leg. "I burn real easy. Wanna see?" She asked, sticking out her arm and pointing to a red, peeling patch above her elbow. "I've got to put this weird stuff on it every night so it can heal. What's that word? It's like a plant," Brittany scrunched her face up as she concentrated on what word she was looking for.

"Aloe?" I tried back. Brittany slapped by leg playfully and nodded. I normally wasn't one to like enthusiasm because I always thought when people were happy it was contrived and forced like Rachel Berry. But with Brittany, her enthusiasm seemed real. Her naivety and wide eyed wonder was something I needed. In a world when you're young and want to grow up as fast as possible, you need someone to be that reminder of what it was like to be young and carefree. Brittany was that person.

Brittany and I sat there until six o'clock when Lizzie got bored because her sand castle wasn't turning out like the little boy's next to her. "I want to go home." Lizzie exclaimed, falling down to her knees next to Brittany.

Brittany looked at me and shrugged. "I can leave too. Quinn's Bible study probably ran later than she expected." I joked. We got out of our swings and exited the park with Lizzie in between us. We walked down the long block wordlessly as Lizzie's humming became the only noise we could hear in the stillness of the night.

I walked to Brittany's house just to prolong the time I would have to spend at my own home. When we arrived, Lizzie, with her newfound supply of energy, ran up to the porch and crawled through the dog door. Brittany put her hand to her face in embarrassment while I chuckled when her small hand reached about the porch for her sandal. "Do you wanna hang out sometime before school? I could really use a friend before my first day at McKinley." Brittany admitted, looking down at her feet.

"Sure, I could come by tomorrow. You and I could go to the movies on the other side of town." I decided. Brittany nodded and told me to meet her here by eleven o'clock tomorrow. "Okay, I'll see you tomorrow." I replied, turning on my heel to leave but long fingers coiled around my wrist. Brittany spun me around and pulled me into an embrace.

"I'm so glad to have met you." She whispered into my ear, burying her face into my neck. I was too.

We started to hang out every day after our movie date back on the second of August. I grew to like her quirks and she grew to like my otherwise bitchy tendencies but it didn't stop her from correcting me on them sometimes.

We hung out with Quinn when she had "nothing better to do" and she noticed our instant friendship, envying it from the sideline and trying to repossess me as her own. I played along because I didn't want Quinn to be mad at me in our first year of high school but I knew I was never really Quinn's in the first place. I was with Quinn by default. In middle school, when everyone was just getting comfortable with their bodies and those of others, Quinn was deemed the most beautiful, I the hottest. We were thrust upon each other and became friends because everyone pretty had to be friends, right?

Brittany, however, wasn't concerned with looks but the content of a person's character. She liked who she liked and talked who she thought was different and special. She talked to the weird Asian girl with a stutter that wore black clothing and spider necklaces. She talked to the flamboyant well dressed boy with the perfectly combed hair. She saw nothing wrong with the world and that's what makes what's happening to her so unfair. She didn't ask for this. No one asks for things like that to happen. It's thrust upon you, seeing if you're ready for it or not. It's a test to determine the weak from the strong. "The strong will prevail." My father always said. But what about the weak? The kind and selfless like Brittany? Who makes sure that they survive? Not the strong because they're the ones who push the weak farther into the ground. What was I in this world of the weak and the strong? I knew I wasn't strong because in this moment, I'm the weakest I've ever been and it's because of a certain blonde supernova I met when I was only thirteen years old, who, when with her, made me forget of the title I was deemed at the age of ten. And she, with her striking azure eyes that were more magnificent than aquamarines, was completely unprepared and completely unaware that she would change my world.


End file.
